“Sothat’swhy you had that spike, at the gorge.”
“Oh yeah, for sure.”
“And it probably explains the weirdness when we watched the fairies.”
“I was super glad when they suddenly started trying to kill us.”
“Then when I rubbed potion on my shoulder…”
He snapped his fingers. Pointed at her. “Definitely also a top contender for reducing me to a drooling mess.”
“And the fight, when there was all that grabbing of me—”
“It wasn’t just the grabbing. Though I’m loathe to say what else it was,” he said, embarrassed enough again that he looked at his feet. It was okay though. He didn’t have to explain. She already knew enough to fill in the answer for him.
“The protectiveness. The possessiveness,” she said, and he shot such a look her way.
It was practically a gasp in the form of a facial expression.
“Damn, how did you guess that?” he asked.
Then she just couldn’t resist. All her emotions had been running so high and hot for way too many hours. She had to break it with a joke. “Oh well, I read about it inNational Geographic.”
And of course he gave her his biggest goofball look. All big earnest eyes and excitement.
“Holy shit, no way. I can’t believe it said that in there,” he said.
Like the adorable little dipshit he was.
“Because it didn’t, doofus. I got it from every movie, TV show, romance novel, and piece of fan fiction ever. Like with most of this stuff, no human scientific journal on earth has ever gotten it right. ButFated to Be His Sexy Matesure did,” she said—and his amused reaction was how she knew they were really back to being friends. Because this weirdness was a thing, and they’d had this blip. But he could still laugh at her teasing him, over being a fool.
Then bat it back at her.
“Right right right. And where can I get a copy of this, again?”
“I would tell you, but I’m afraid it might make you rampage through the bookstore. And as much as I like you, I’m not willing to sacrifice said store for you.”
“All I heard was you still like me. Even after I confessed all of that,” he said—and he did it just as lightly as everything else he had just told her. Like that was nothing, too. Even though the words sunkthrough her like warm syrup the second he spoke them. She almost clutched at her heart. And it took everything she had to focus on the problem at hand, in reply.
To not gush all over him, like a soppy fool.
“OfcourseI do. Literally the only thing you did wrong here was not tell me—but even that, I understand. Because, to be honest, if something made me horny for you completely against my own will, I’d be mortified at the thought of telling you too. In fact, the very idea is making me cringe, just thinking about it. So, you know, don’t worry. I get it,” she said. Then when he still looked a little tense, she added something more. “And you know what? We’re gonna fix it.”
Though she didn’t realize how possible that actually was, until the words were out. Because the second they were, she got that tingle. She got that urge to start boiling and brewing and baking. To figure things out, in a way that gave her more satisfaction than anything in her life ever had.
And it was good that it did, too.
Because oh, hisreaction.
The look of pure warmth and openness and gratitude all over his face. The way he stepped forward, like he wanted to wrap her in a hug. And the thing he did, when he realized he couldn’t.
He made a heart with his hands. And pointed right at her, to make sure she knew who that heart was for.
Because sure, he could have said it with words.
But she could tell that tears would have made them unclear.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
